


Every Mile Will Be Worth My While

by thelilacfield



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Alternate Universe - Mythology, F/M, M/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 11:30:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5125865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelilacfield/pseuds/thelilacfield
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a quiet childhood with his widowed father, Kurt's world is thrown into turmoil when he discovers he is the son of Zeus, and expected to take on the role of Hercules after the tragic death of his half-brother Finn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Every Mile Will Be Worth My While

**Beta:** klaineannumel

 **Artist:** frumiousme

 **Word count:** 15268

 **Rating:** T/PG-13

 **Warni** **ngs:**  Minor character death, violence, past non-con, manipulation, infidelity, arranged marriage

 **A/N:** And welcome to my third Kurt Big Bang fic! Thanks are due to my lovely beta,  **klaineannumel** , who allowed me to bounce endless ideas off her even though not all of them made it into the final draft. Thanks also to my artist,  **frumiousme** , who made me a beautiful cover depicting one of the first plot points that I twisted into this story. And, of course, to the KHBB mods who make all this possible.

Title from  _Go The Distance_ from Disney's Hercules.

* * *

 " _Being a hero doesn't mean you're invincible. It just means that you're brave enough to stand up and do what's needed."_

―  _Rick Riordan, The Mark of Athena_

_ _

In the beginning, the gods scorned mortals. From the peak of Mount Olympus, in their golden palaces, mortals seemed ants in the growing civilization below, mere workers scurrying among the golden wheat fields and the building that seemed to bloom from the ground like flowers. Their land was merely a buffer between Olympus and the Underworld. They weren't immortal, their life fleeting and fragile. What did the gods care for creatures such as that?

Yet they were fascinating, learning and growing with every day, and sending up offers and prayers for the gods. They sought answers to life's riddles, to the puzzles of every day, to matters of the heart. Each question was for a different god - a beautiful but timid young woman sought Aphrodite's help in attracting the attentions of a handsome youth; a strong sailor prayed to Poseidon for calm seas and a fruitful voyage; a trembling bride asked Hera to watch over her marriage and ensure it stayed strong; a clever-fingered man about to perform for a king begged Apollo to make his music sweet and true.

Aphrodite, being the goddess of love, was the first to take a greater interest in mortals. Descending into their world, her true form hidden, she came across a handsome scribe in a meadow, whose lopsided smile and sun-warmed skin drew her in as a moth is drawn to a flame. The result was a child, half of Olympus and half of earth, who walked among the mortals, like them, but wielded the power of the gods as they grew. Though Aphrodite was challenged by the gods - they called her a traitor, tried to cast her out, used their powers to harm her - she would not claim her mistake, nor destroy the child.

And so, other gods began to descend the mountain, to walk among the mortals. More children sprung from these encounters, powerful mortals who looked to their godly parent for guidance. Despite their wives, the three brothers had soon fathered more children each than the other gods put together - Zeus, Poseidon and Hades enchanted mortal women and each child seemed more powerful than the last, more likely to become a hero.

The golden palace atop Mount Olympus never felt the strain of these children - the gods scorned their children, ignoring them, leaving many unclaimed and wandering the earth with no idea of where their strange powers came from. Many became orphans, lost in the wilderness of mortal life, but time was a different concept to the gods - a human life could trickle by in the mere blink of an eye.

Things remained this way until the day the Oracle of Delphi spoke her prophecy. The spirit possessed a young blonde woman, her eyes faraway and her hands light, and thunder rumbled across the sky with Zeus' anger the day she sat on Apollo's lap, curled around him like a vine around a tree - much to the young god's glee - and spoke the prophecy in a lyrical voice, the walls reverberating with the power of the words.

" _A mortal boy born of two gods_

_Shall reach eighteen against all odds_

_Titans unleashed through immortal rage_

_To end the peaceful Grecian age_

_Help sought out from master of hell_

_Olympus preserved with toll of knell."_

Such a prophecy threw the gods into panic - the Titans were to rise again? To take the world in a storm and end the age of the Greeks? And their fate lay...where? In the hands of a child? It was Athena who calmed them, and repeated the same line of the prophecy:  _A mortal boy born of two gods_. No child of two gods could be mortal unless stripped of their immortality, and if the gods did not perform that magic, then the prophecy could not come true. They rested easy on their golden thrones, assured that their doom was not approaching at an impossibly fast rate.

In due time, Zeus descended to the world below to enchant a young woman, unmarried and under the protection of a nobleman, drawing her into his web is the guise of a soldier, who would soon have to leave her for the wars across the sprawling seas. Like so many other women before her, she fell desperately in love, enchanted by the stormy grey eyes that remained no matter the form Zeus took on, the mystery that rumbled around him like a storm and the words of a poet which he whispered into her ear like the sweetest poison, She soon became pregnant, and Zeus left her to a life of unrequited love, allowing her to believe her fighting love had died a noble death in battle.

Mere days after leaving her behind, satisfied with the knowledge that another hero would be born to the world, one who could rise and be more successful than any yet had been, another young woman crossed Zeus' path. She was dark-haired, with eyes flecked by gold and a musical voice that lifted the very air around her, and Zeus became fixated on winning her love and her body. She would not give in to his charm, his usual enchantments had no effect on her, and she coldly rejected him when he asked, citing her adoration of her feeble, mortal husband.

The sky itself roared with rage, lightning flashing across the sky and striking fire into the earth, as the lord of the skies took her arm and silenced her screams. When it was over, the rain lashing the ground steely as a sword, he swept away in a gust of wind, leaving a woman broken, cold water running in slender streams down her arms and legs and mingling with blood in the dirt. She returned to her home and her husband a shell of what she had been before, no strength in her to survive as her belly grew rounded, ripening like a jewelled pomegranate on its tree. Though her husband tried to help, to comfort her, it was as if Zeus' wrath had turned her to stone - she could not respond, trapped in her own mind.

With the birth of her child, a squalling boy squirming in her husband's arms, Elizabeth gave the last of her strength to begin his life. Pale as a spirit, eyelids a bruised purple as her very essence faded into the Underworld, she looked on her husband and whispered, "Don't let him know. He is our son - he should never be exposed to the truth. Keep him safe - don't let the gods touch him."

Pressing his lips gently to her cold forehead, Burt blinked back his tears and whispered, "I promise."

As a young woman in another town cradled her son close, telling him stories of his heroic father who had surrendered his life to give him a greater world, a husband buried his wife, covering the peaceful, sweet face he'd come to know like the stars above with earth, giving her spirit over to Hades himself. The baby squirmed in his arms, a son of Zeus, and Burt held him close and told him, "It's just you and me, kiddo. You and me against the world." He whispered a prayer to Hera, to watch over his family, and resolved to scorn Zeus for the rest of his days upon the earth.

Finn was the son of a man thought to be an army hero, raised under the care of his sweet mother, Carole, and with the help of the nobleman whose affection for Carole's father saved her from being put onto the streets when she became pregnant. He would grow into a tall, strong man, trained by the one the gods trusted most, in awe of the knowledge that his father was a god, a hero who would protect the land with every ounce of his almighty strength.

But we are not to look at his life - blazing, bright, joyful to its last day. No, we wish to examine the legend which surrounds the child born of a dreadful act, the boy whose mother gave her life to his. It is a tragedy, a comedy, filled with hatred and passion and anger - and, yes, a little love. The ending? Well, we cannot reveal that so soon. No hero truly knows their destination in life - many flames burn out soon, with no happy ending.

Kurt was the son of Zeus, King of the Gods, Lord of the Skies. Kurt was the son of a woman hurt by Zeus himself, a woman whose grave he would visit many times in his young life. Kurt was raised by a broken man, a man who had lost his love and would forever wander the earth halved, running his chariot-building business with a fervour and dedication that could only have been born of heartbreak.

Kurt Hummel is the hero of whom we sing today.

* * *

In his eighth year, Kurt's father was forced to move him away from the town that they had called home. A cruel storm swallowed the village, destroying houses and taking lives. It was an event caused by Zeus' wrath that he was prevented from reaching the son he saw such power within, and Burt knew this. In accordance with his wife's dying wish, he moved them away, though Kurt cried and cried to be pulled from his home, screaming and shouting as Burt solemnly packed their possessions into a chariot and they set out for another place to make a home.

But this uproot had two incredible upsides to it. The town that Burt chose for them - quiet, unassuming, a place where the wind was the only disturbance - contained two people who would become incredibly close to Kurt's young heart. Deprived of his mother, the child had an incredible capacity to love, searching out those souls who would become a part of him, friends to last a lifetime and beyond.

Santana was a young girl who weaved in and out of the streets, spending odd nights in the homes of those whose hearts were touched by her plight - an orphan in a cruel world, forced into a life no one would wish for such a girl. Waiting while his father spoke with a client, Kurt noticed her with her smudged face and dirty clothes, and called out for her to share his bread. Over that, a friendship was forged almost instantly, and Santana soon became a permanent member of the household, joining Kurt in helping Burt in his workshop and protecting the family from the stares of the curious townspeople.

Just next door to the small home Burt had chosen for them was a farm, sprawling out in every direction, and for months Kurt and Santana played there, hidden by the tall stalks and living in their imaginations. After six months of this same routine, spring giving rise to flowers and new leaves, they were playing sea monsters when a pair of round eyes brought them both up short, peering at them. A boy a year younger than them soon emerged, dark curls and nervous gaze, and Santana stepped slightly in front of Kurt, hands on her hips and chin jutted out. "Who are you?"

"I'm Blaine," he murmured, shy and quiet. "My family owns this farm. I've been watching you play. Can I join in too?"

"Fine," Santana said, and pulled him into their game. By the time the sun was setting, bathing the sky in red, the three were firm friends, and would remain so for many years.

When Santana turned fifteen, she left Kurt alone with his father, only telling them that she wished to travel and find what she might be looking for in her soul. Devastated by the loss of his friend, Kurt turned to Blaine for the comforts he ached for, and found so much more than that. A kiss in a quiet day as the frost began to take. Touches that lasted for hours, the marks of fingertips on skin. Whispered words beneath the moonlight, words that last beyond all measure of time.

At the age of seventeen, Kurt had grown into a man, broad in the shoulder, with the bright eyes of a soul in love. His life seemed perfect, easy, something simple. He knew that he would take over the business when his father retired. He knew that he would spend his life loving Blaine, never taking a wife. He knew what his life would be - nothing special, nothing the world would tell of, but he was content. He knew happiness and love and family, and nothing in the world could mean more than that.

The town next to theirs watched its great hero fall, side rent by the claws of a monster no one could tame. The screams of horror rose, and the man Zeus himself trusted to train heroes lowered his head and let the tears fall into the gloom.

That was the day that Kurt's fate was changed forever.

* * *

As the crowds dispersed into the night, Sheldon sat alone, watching a young woman sobbing over the fallen hero, sprawled on the rocks next to his body. The monster was long gone, drifted back into the darkness, but the body stayed as Rachel's wails echoed around the canyon, haunting and heartbreaking. Far above him, the lady Athena shook her head in sadness as she looked upon the young girl losing the future she had so painstakingly planned. She was used to death, the cloying misery that gripped the world like a mist, but this hero had been something else altogether.

"Tragic," came a voice, and she turned to see Hades emerge from the night, darkness swirling around his form, eyes like molten silver in the dark. "Another hero wasted."

"He was different," Athena snapped, and rolled her eyes as Hades came to her side, arms folded across his chest and gazing down at the scene before them. "You know as well as I do that the Titans are stirring. Tartarus is no longer holding them the way we hoped. I believed...I thought this boy was the one we've awaited."

"Athena, my dear lady, are you not the goddess of wisdom?" Hades asked, and fire flared in the goddess' eyes. "The prophecy's lines were clear - we await a mortal boy born of two gods. This boy made it to eighteen, yes, but I've met his mother. A remarkable woman, but a goddess she is not."

"Then the prophecy is just a farce!" Athena exploded, robes rippling as she turned away from the splintered sobs that echoed up to them from the canyon. "No child of two gods can be mortal, unless they are stripped of their immortality, and we have vowed to never again perform that magic."

"My dear, sweet Athena, that vow was made when the damage had already been done," Hades said, lingering lovingly over every word. "There is a mortal boy born to two gods within this world, mere weeks from his eighteenth birthday and the power to destroy everything we know."

"Then you know where this boy is?" Athena asked, turning on him, and he simply nodded. "You should never have kept this from us! The world could be ending as we speak, and our fate lies in the hands of an untrained  _child_!"

"Lady, he will not be untrained much longer," Hades said gently, as if to pacify her. "He awaits in the wings of our stage, a substitute for the hero we have lost here today. When the body has been lain to rest, and the spirit sent home, Sheldon will go to the boy and take him through the training programme. He will be the new Hercules - the people shall have their hero returned."

"And what is the name of this mysterious hero who will emerge to save us all?" Athena asked, her curiosity piqued even through her cynicism. Hades merely smiled, and in a second had faded back into the darkness, leaving the goddess standing alone.

* * *

Plants crisped to brown in the sunlight that beat down upon the tiny house, a white gem among the rolling fields. A symphony of clinking metal and the dull sounds of wood hitting wood echoed from the workshop as Kurt continued his work on a chariot order, watched from beneath half-lidded eyes by Blaine, curled in the corner and watching the bend of Kurt's back, the glisten of sweat on his brow and his muscular arms as he worked. "Stop that," Kurt murmured into the clank of his tools, glancing up at Blaine over the broad stretch of the body of the chariot.

"Stop what?" Blaine asked sweetly, taking a sip of his drink and curling the corner of his mouth up in an innocent smile.

"I can't concentrate when you watch me like that," Kurt said sternly, and Blaine smirked at him. "You're still doing it." Setting down the wheel he held, he crossed the workshop and curled himself sinuously as a snake into Blaine's lap, one hand in his hair and the other anchored on his slender waist. "Is this what you want?"

"I love you," Blaine murmured, a secret sun burning bright between them, and Kurt smiled slowly, a true smile to rival all the joy in the world, and leaned into him, pressing their foreheads together so they were sharing breath, slow and sweet and intimate.

"I love you too." Blaine's eyes lit up at those words, the soul inside blazing bright with the love within him, and he tilted his head up for a kiss. The kisses they shared were unlike any other in the world - so full of love, connection, tender feeling and an edge of heat, of the touches they both longed to fall into, but knew they couldn't. Not in the middle of the day, with the sun hot on their skin and Kurt's father just inside. Merely kissing was a risk, even the simple act of Kurt sitting in Blaine's lap, but as their cheeks grew hot and their breathing became heavy and their hands began to roam, neither of them cared for such things.

The sound of a footstep outside the workshop door sent them flying away from each other, Kurt hastily running a hand through his hair and bending down beneath the chariot to hide his flushed cheeks. As the door opened slowly, he stood up straight, heart dropping at the sight of his father - pale as a spirit, hands shaking slightly, staring at Kurt like he'd just watched the Fates themselves cut his life thread. "Dad, what is it?" Kurt asked frantically, all thoughts of desperate kisses and lasting touches fled like the colours of flowers when the frosts set in. "Is it your heart? Is it back?"

"There's someone here to see you," Burt said gently, staring at Kurt with a worried frown and frightened eyes. "You have to come now, Kurt. Blaine, I'm sorry to send you out so early. You're welcome here any time."

"Of course," Blaine said, climbing up from the chair and walking straight out of the door. His fingers brushed Kurt's palm as he left, a silent gesture that sent warmth tingling through Kurt's limbs, knowing he was loved even without words. Watching him leave, Kurt finally followed his father through their home and into the front room.

Waiting for him was another man of around his father's age, with deep lines of suffering carved into his face like cracks in a cliff and the eyes of someone who had lost so much. Gesturing for Kurt to sit, he looked down at him with that same expression - as if he knew Kurt was going to die, it was set down in prophecy, and nothing he could do would change that. "Good evening, Kurt," he said softly, voice steady and strong. "I'm sorry that we had to meet under such unfortunate circumstances."

"I'm sorry, sir - do I know you?" Kurt asked, hands wrapped around his knees. "Dad, do you know him?"

"My name is Sheldon," the man said, extending a polite hand that Kurt shook, still no less confused. "Your father and I have come into contact with each other a few times in your life - we have never seen eye to eye. He doesn't appreciate the views I represent. But, Kurt, I'm here now for a reason that even your father can't change. A prophecy. About you." Leaning forward, expression grave and eyes heavy, Sheldon continued, "You've heard of demigods, yes? Children with one godly parent - Perseus, Theseus, Achilles. The Oracle has spoken a number of prophecies about demigods over the years, but the most notable one was delivered eighteen years ago - some call it the Great Prophecy."

"I don't understand," Kurt said quietly. "What does any of this have to do with me? I'm just a chariot maker."

"No one is 'just' anything, Kurt," Sheldon said seriously. "Everyone has the strength within them to become a hero. Some just have an advantage is a godly parent. Kurt...have you heard of Hercules? He's called the greatest hero who ever lived, the saviour of an entire town plagued by monsters so terrible they could only have been born from Tartarus. A few days ago, he was killed in battle with a fearsome Hydra, leaving that town powerless against their monsters. People are dying, and they need someone. Hercules was only a name - Finn was a good man. I trained him, and I've never seen someone with so much potential, such an eagerness to help. His death is one of my darkest days, and now I must find another hero - you."

" _Me_?" Somehow, Kurt was on his feet, standing above Sheldon and his father, his heart pounding and his chest heaving with his staggered breaths. "I'm not a hero!"

"You will be trained," Sheldon said easily, as if Kurt had never even exploded. "But you are a son of Zeus - it will come naturally."

"A son of Zeus?" Anger swelled up within Kurt - that name, the one god he had always been taught to hate, to scorn, a god who used his powers to stir up storms that destroyed towns and uprooted lives, the arrogant king with no one to police his power. There was just no way...he  _couldn't_  be a demigod. Not a child of a god, least of all  _that_  god. "This is insane, I'm mortal! I'm just a boy, I'm almost eighteen, and then I'll build chariots. Right, Dad?" Turning to his father, he could see no sign that any of this absurd situation was a joke, and furiously blinked back hot tears, frustration and anger boiling over, and repeated, " _Dad_?!"

"I'm so sorry we didn't tell you sooner," his father said, and the very earth itself shook as Kurt's entire world crashed down in flames around him, all sense of self crumbling, his very mind twisting. "Your mother...it was her last wish that you shouldn't know your true heritage. She wanted you to be raised as my son, she wanted you kept out of the hands of the gods. Had they had their way, Sheldon would've taken you as soon as you were able to hold a dagger and trained you. Your mother wanted you safe, away from your godly father. He is cruel, Kurt, I've never lied to you about that. Your mother died because of the way he treated her."

"Then...my whole life...you've lied to me for eighteen years," Kurt murmured, chest hot with hurt and tears spurting against his will, shining like silver on his skin. He clenched his fists as his fingers began to shake, colour flooding into his cheeks as the fury came to its head, a wild creature unfurling its wings, unsheathing its claws and screeching out in his chest. "Why didn't you tell me? How hard would it have been to let me know that the god you taught me to hate is my father?!"

Burt raised his hands as if surrendering, bared down to his very bones as tears glistened in his eyes, the ghosts of a turbulent past, those awful months when he had watched his wife, his only love, slowly fading. "Kurt, your mother-"

"Is  _dead_!" Kurt screamed, vision blurred with tears that burned and prickled at his eyes. "She died the day I was born, and you always told me it was a freak accident. A medical anomaly. But that was never true, was it?! She died because my blood father hurt her so badly she didn't want to live anymore. She couldn't face raising me!"

"Your mother loved you with all her heart," his father said gently. "We had wanted children for so long, it was like some terrible curse. We prayed so many times to the gods to bless us with a child - and I have been blessed, raising you. You are my son, Kurt, nothing but that matters. We make our own truth."

He reached out to embrace Kurt, to hold him as he had so many times before, but Kurt pushed him away, eyes blazing with anger. "Don't touch me!" he hissed, voice full of poison, and left the two men together, running out of the house and into the fields, the stalks scratching his skin and pulling on his clothing, burying himself in the plants and hoping he might never be found.

A scream of anger and anguish ripped out of him, echoing like thunder in the silence. Thunder - thunder Zeus created, thunder his  _father_  created, a deadly drum beat that shook the world. Storms that killed people, smashed houses, had rivers bursting their banks and dragging everything away in their deadly flow. His father was a whirlwind of destruction, the source of it all - he had been born in destruction, in his mother's death. As bad as his father.

His feet flew swift as arrows, taking him through the town, past houses and faces that called out greetings, his eyes spilling fat tears and every breath painful, dragging in his raw throat. Agony gripped him, face salted wet with regret, his anger a creature in itself, shuddering and writhing within him. Finally the sharp scent of the ocean hit him, and the cliff fell away before him, the menacing waves hungrily caressing the sharp rocks below. The domain of Poseidon - his  _uncle_. The brothers had always had a rivalry - how fitting it would be to hand himself to his father's enemy, remove himself from everything - the expectations, the neediness, the lies.

But as he stepped closer to the edge of the cliff, the wind whistling up from below, a voice came that tugged at his heart, the pain worsening. "I really don't think you want to do that." Turning his head slowly, eyes screwed up against the salt on the wind, Kurt felt the clenching of his chest when he found Santana standing behind her. Her clothes were rags, her hair fluttering wildly, still as thin as the last time he had seen her. Older, sadder, hopeless, but still his friend. "Don't, Kurt. We can explain everything."

"So you're on their side?" Kurt asked, and she only lowered her head in acknowledgement on the truth. "You've been lying to me too! Were you ever really my friend?"

"Always," she promised. "I would do anything for you, Kurt. I was assigned to protect you - I've been severely punished for leaving. You have no idea of the true protection I can give you. You cannot die here as long as I choose to help you."

"Leave me alone!" Kurt screamed, voice almost lost to the emptiness. "I don't want you to protect me! I don't want anyone!" Standing at the edge of the cliff, he closed his eyes and let himself fall into the emptiness.

But when he opened them again, he was merely floating. "I won't let you throw away your entire life because you're angry," Santana said, and he turned his head and screamed to see her floating right next to him, neatly cross-legged as if sitting on a sturdy floor and not the air itself. "We love you, Kurt, not because of what we've been asked to do, but because you are the hero the world has waited for." Closing her eyes, her voice took on a lyrical, smoky manner as she recited:

" _A mortal boy born of two gods_

_Shall reach eighteen against all odds_

_Titans unleashed through immortal rage_

_To end the peaceful Grecian age_

_Help sought out from master of hell_

_Olympus preserved with toll of knell."_

"The Great Prophecy?" Kurt asked, and Santana nodded gently. "How can that be about me? There are thousands of children of the gods - why me?"

"The prophecy specified a mortal child of two gods, something no one can quite understand," Santana said, voice casual and easy - as if they weren't somehow suspended above a sea that would kill them as soon as they touched the white fangs of the waves. "But Lord Hades swore on the River Styx that he knew, though would not share the information with the other gods, and told them where to find you." With a twist of her fingers, she swept them out the air, and back onto solid ground, taking Kurt's hands in hers. "You have no idea how I struggled to keep this all from you."

"How did you do that?" Kurt asked, and she tilted her head slightly in confusion. "Keep us suspended like that. We should both be  _dead_."

"I'm a demigod too, Kurt," Santana said. "My father is Eurus, god of the east wind. His children are traditionally unlucky - but I can control the winds, which makes me an invaluable companion. As long as you have me, you'll be able to fly - it's an incredible advantage in battle."

Slumping to the ground, Kurt pulled his knees up to his chest like a child trying to hide from the world and quietly asked, "So what happened to you, Santana? You just disappeared - wouldn't even tell me where you were going. You left me."

"Okay, so here's my life story," Santana said, slumping down cross-legged next to him. "My parents met when my mother had just married the noble her parents wanted her to be with. So she saw my father, who was very clear about being a god, as a way to escape. Her husband kicked her out when she was pregnant, and she went to Olympus to be with my father. The other gods were extremely resentful - none of their lovers were allowed to join them. So I was raised up there, by both my parents, in a relatively stable family. Then Zeus bribed my father to let me become his servant - I was to go down to the mortal world and watch over a son he wasn't allowed to get close to. When my mother protested, they exiled her to the lands beyond the seas. He sent me down here to keep an eye on you - he made me promise to stay at your side and protect you. An oath on the River Styx - the most serious vow anyone, mortal, demigod or god, can make." She ducked her head, and Kurt could see the gleam of tears in her eyes. "But I wanted to be a hero. I heard the stories at my mother's feet, around the fires of the minor gods and spirits who live on Olympus, and I was inspired by them. But the legends were all men, they were the ones the Muses sang of and told stories about. I wanted to be the first female hero - not soft or passive or simply there for the pleasure of men, my fate to bear children. I dreamed about fighting hideous monsters, people singing about me, children hearing stories about Santana, daughter of Eurus - the first female hero, the first hero who wasn't a child of the eldest gods. So, when I was fifteen, old enough to be trained, I left you, and I went to Sheldon, and I begged him to train me. But I'd sworn on oath on the River Styx, and I left you. I knew you'd be safe, with your father, and with Blaine, but I broke my oath, and Zeus wouldn't let me be trained. Sheldon simply turned me away, to train Finn instead, and I had to wander. I was too ashamed to come back to you, my mother disappeared long ago, and my father wouldn't look at me My fate has been to protect heroes - I can never be one."

"The gods are selfish, Santana," Kurt said gently, and her head whipped up, her eyes full of shock. "Look at us - look at our lives. Zeus banished your mother - you don't even know whether she's alive or dead. He forced mine towards him despite her rejection - he left her with so little strength she died giving birth to me. The gods turned their backs on you the moment they cast you down here - in your heart, you know that. My father taught me they're selfish - mortals and demigods are only there to serve their ends. They don't love us. They don't feel anything for us. We are pets at best, vermin at worst. Look at the way Zeus punished Prometheus for bringing us fire and helping us to become more civilized." He stood up, and looked up the sky. "I won't help them."

But as he walked away, Santana's voice lifted like the wind behind him. "I met Finn, briefly, before he went to fight the Hydra," she said, oh so soft. "He was a good man, Kurt. You may judge him merely for being Zeus' son, but his mother believed until Sheldon came that she had loved a soldier who died in battle, honourably. Finn was so strong, a true hero. He fought for the people until his last breath. Hundreds of people have nothing to believe in now he's gone. Please, will you fight? In his memory? Destroy the Hydra?" She stood, he could hear the rustle of her clothes and the soft swish of her footsteps in the grass, and she slowly approached him. Her hand on his back made him jump, and her voice was so gentle as she continued, "You'll be trained by the best. We can work together - you the hero, me your faithful protector. We'll ride the winds - you can control lightning, storms, rain. Sheldon will teach you how to use a bow, a sword, a dagger. You could be unstoppable."

"I'm in love." The words simply spilled out of him like a wave breaking on the beach, and he couldn't turn around. He couldn't see the look in her eyes. "It's Blaine. I love him with everything I have - I don't want to be leave him alone. I could be killed, and then what would happen to him? What would happen to my dad?"

"Love is dangerous for a hero, yes," Santana said, and he turned to see no judgement in her eyes. No anger, no hatred, no disappointment. "Life is dangerous for a hero, but that is true of any demigod, whether they know or not. We so often end up alone in the world, with no godly parents acknowledging us. We struggle, never knowing why we are attacked by strange creatures that sense our power. But, if Hades is to be believed, you are the child of the prophecy - a son of two gods. However you have come to be mortal, that alone makes you incredibly powerful. I can almost sense your power in the air. Like-"

"Lightning," Kurt finished, and even as he said it he could feel the spark in his gut, like a tug of heat, running through his blood and shimmering on the tips of his fingers. He stared at himself in fascination as tiny bolts of electricity slithered over his fingers like snakes, wrapping around his palms and spiralling around his wrists. He gave a single finger an experimental twitch and a warm breeze wrapped around them, shielding them from the cold wind whipping up from the sea. "Oh my...I really am a son of Zeus."

"It's surprising you've managed to stay this long without being caught by monsters," Santana said thoughtfully. "You give off such a strong aura, they should all have been flocking to your door years ago. Perhaps you're being protected by some form of cloaking magic - perhaps you have a godly patron out there looking out for you."

"I hope it's not Zeus," Kurt said bitterly, spitting the name out like poison, and Santana finally smiled slightly, linking her arm through his. "Thank you. Thank you for not letting me make a terrible mistake."

"Don't mention it." They walked back through the village together, close together, protecting each other. As the tiny white house came into view, Santana flicked her hand and a breeze wove around them like a net, lifting them off the ground so they floated back towards it much faster than walking. "Don't worry - the mortals can't see us," she said as they zigzagged through the village centre. "The Mist alters their perception - it makes them believe that what they're seeing can be logically explained. We probably just look like we're running really fast." Turning his head to face her, she sternly said, "The Mist can affect me, as my mother was a mortal, and I have to work hard to see through it. As your blood is allegedly all godly, but you have a mortal life, I'm not sure how that will work for you. Just work - I can see through it, but not always with a cursory glance. I have to work to see what truly is."

They landed lightly on the doorstep, as if they hadn't just travelled floating on the wind. When Kurt went back inside, hoping there was no evidence left of his fury or his tears, he found his father and Sheldon in exactly the same positions they'd been sitting in when he left. "I want to train," he finally said. "I have these powers - I don't want them, but I can't let people die at the hands of monsters I could kill. When will we leave?"

"Immediately," Sheldon said, getting to his feet and nodding cordially to Burt.

"Santana is coming with us," Kurt said. "She's my protector. I want to train for battle with her so we can work as a team." Before Sheldon could protest his decision, he added, "And I have to go next door and say goodbye to my friend."

There was nothing anyone could do to stop him - he dashed away, out through the door and to the back of Blaine's house, scaling the olive tree that grew directly beneath Blaine's window. As soon as he knocked, Blaine was there, taking his hand to help him inside and kissing him as he climbed into the tiny room. "What happened?" he asked, looking drawn and worried, cupping Kurt's face in his hands and searching for any sign of trauma. "What did that stranger want from you?"

"I'm a son of Zeus," Kurt confessed, breathless with shock. Blaine's eyes blew wide, but he didn't open his mouth to raise questions of it. "A child from a prophecy about a son of two gods who will help to save Olympus from a rising of the Titans. I have to leave, to train with the trainer of the greatest heroes. Santana is a demigod - a daughter of a wind god. She'll be an asset to me in battle."

"Kurt..." The single word was so honest - full of desperation, worry, passion like fire, and the love that sang beneath Kurt's skin. "I don't want you to get hurt. I love you, Kurt, please don't go off and be a hero. They all died in the end."

"I'll be a special kind of a hero," Kurt said bracingly, but he could hear the lie in his own voice. "According to the prophecy, I'm a son of two gods - I may be mortal, but that already makes me more powerful than any of them. I promise, Blaine, I'll come back to you. I swear. I love you so much." And damn it all - he couldn't stand to worry about Blaine's parents. He could only take his love in his arms and kiss him with all the breathless passion of two young men desperately in love, feel the heat of Blaine's tears streaking his skin, try to memorise the feel of his skin and the warm softness of his lips. "This isn't goodbye, Blaine. I'm never saying goodbye to you."

"I love you," Blaine whispered, pressing his lips against Kurt's neck, where his pulse fluttered like a trapped bird. "Be safe. Come back to me."

Pressing his cheek into Blaine's hair, breathing him in, Kurt whispered, "Always."

* * *

High above the mortal world, on his golden throne, the Lord of the Skies looked on his son with a lip curled in disdain. "In love with a mere mortal," he sneered, lip curling beneath his ebony moustache. "No son of mine would love a creature so common."

"And how many times have you fallen briefly for mortal women, brother dearest?" Hades asked, lounging blithely in the throne of Aphrodite. To him, love and death were so closely intertwined he was entitled to her throne if no one else's. The glare Zeus gave him could've burned a man to death, but the Lord of the Underworld simply smirked.

"Enough, Hades," Zeus snapped, voice rumbling like thunder. "You led us to the boy, and now the prophecy is afoot. Now you must tell us how you know this boy is of the prophecy. You cannot keep this a secret from us - too much is at stake."

"I cannot." Hades' voice was not sardonic as usual - there was no quiet light of enjoyment at his own sarcasm dancing in his eyes. He looked almost tortured, like the souls that floated in the rivers of his black domain, his face shadowed with suffering. "I swore an oath that I would never give the information of that connection to anyone before Kurt himself hears it. Rest assured, brother, I speak the truth. I know he is the prophecy's child."

"You know, we cannot trust you if you refuse to tell us this," Zeus said, bringing out the one threat that could always make his deceitful brother toe the line. "You will be confined to the Underworld."

"And I'm not already trapped there?" Hades spat, anger flaring in his eyes - ebony fire, deadly. "We rolled the dice - you have the sky, Poseidon the sea, and myself the Underworld. Surrounded by the dead, feeling all of that regret and sadness and loss. If you were exposed to the smallest measure of that, brother, you would go mad. I won't tell you this secret - it belongs to Kurt's mother. A soul I know well."

"Brother, tell me!" The ground shook with the force of Zeus' wrath, but Hades simply gave a haunting smile and slipped into the darkness, descending from the summit of Olympus and the golden palace back to his own realm, swallowed up by the sadness.

The pomegranate tree was a familiar sight outside his palace, flooding his limbs with warmth - at least his wife was here, rather than on the earth with her mother. Since the Titans had begun to stir, Demeter had relented and allowed her daughter below the earth with her husband - she was safer there. And there she was, waiting for him, her face drawn with worry, dark eyes bright in the gloom, her arms and warmth and familiar soft scent welcoming as he kissed her and murmured, "My love, I have never been happier to see you."

"Zeus still not listening?" she asked, her voice infused with loathing. Hades shook his head gently, pressing his forehead into her hair as he had watched Kurt do with Blaine not an hour ago. "Oh love, why won't you leave him to be as stubborn as he has always been?"

"I cannot simply let him face this threat with brute strength alone - that will only end in his destruction," Hades said, taking his wife's hand and guiding her into their rooms. The silver braided into her hair flashed in the flickering light of the amber torches, and her grey silken robes flowed like water around her slender form as she sat at the edge of their bed. "He is my brother and my king, and I want to help him. He simply won't accept my help - he won't accept I know things about this prophecy that he does not."

"That boy is the bravest I have ever seen," Persephone said softly, and her words caught in her throat and her eyes filled with tears. "Loving so freely and going with Sheldon to be trained. Facing a Hydra a mere few weeks out of training. Trusting Eurus' daughter. Trusting everyone around him even after years of lies. He will make a wonderful hero." Blinking so the tears trailed down her cheeks, molten silver tracking across her pale skin, she whispered, "I only hope we don't soon see his soul here with us."

Cradling her into his chest as she began to weep, Hades kissed her temple and murmured, "I hope so too."

* * *

Leaving Beiste's island was a terrifying experience for our young hero. It had become familiar, a second home for Kurt. The nymphs and dryads on the island had become his friends - once they realised his feelings were reserved for Blaine alone, they no longer feared him and giggled with him, telling him whispers of gossip that worked their way on the wind from the mainland. Santana loved the island - she said it was infused with magic, with the souls of all the great heroes who had walked here, and spent hours in the library, running her fingers lovingly over the yellowing tomes.

But there was suffering there, too. Opening a door in the mansion which dominated the skyline, where Beiste stayed even though it was crumbling at the edges, Kurt had found the memorials of the heroes Beiste had trained in the past - the mast of the Argo, the shield belonging to Perseus, a stunning tapestry depicting Theseus' defeat of the Minotaur, the lyre Odysseus had played while attempting to rescue his wife, and a beautiful bronze statue of Achilles. The man had lost so many, who to the world had been heroes but to him had been like children - some had been raised on the island, delivered by their godly parent. Kurt was the oldest he had ever begun to train, and what had taken years with some men was to be pressed into short weeks, before the Hydra returned to attack the town Finn had died defending.

With his sword gleaming in its hilt, a dagger strapped to his side and a bow and quiver on his back, Kurt stared at his reflection in the lake. He had turned eighteen shortly after arriving - the prophecy was already underway. He looked so much like a man now - a hero. Perhaps it had been knowing of his immortal blood, but he seemed to have changed shape - a more chiselled jaw, more angular, hard features. He was more muscular now, with the intense training, and when he donned his armour he looked dangerous. It was all gold, making him gleam like the sun.

With Santana's careful hands guiding them, they rode the winds to Thebes, where the Hydra lurked just beyond the town boundaries. The people flocked to their new hero - Hercules, resurrected, realised in the body of another son of Zeus, and they watched as Kurt levelled his sword as the monster. They watched its heads swarm around him, the new heads sprout as fast as Kurt could sever the thick neck, and gasped and screamed in unison when it seemed as if Kurt was going to die just like Finn.

But then Kurt called lightning down from the sky, to singe the severed necks before new heads could sprout. The electricity worked, stopped the monster from continuing to overwhelm him, and the crowd screamed in ecstasy as their new hero triumphantly hoisted his sword aloft, and Santana dashed forward to snatch him up on the wind for a lap of honour, hovering just above the hands that reached up to touch him, just to snatch a brief brush of their fingers against the hero who had saved them from the plague of the Hydra.

Bringing them to the ground next to Sheldon, Santana grinned brightly and threw her arms enthusiastically around his neck. "I can't wait to hear the tales they weave about you," she said with shining, excited eyes. Sheldon looked at them with a quiet smile, and for the first time Kurt noticed that the crowds below had gone suddenly, reverently silent.

"There's someone you should meet, Kurt," Sheldon said, and Kurt noticed the woman ascending the worn steps to the platform where they stood. Slender as a sapling, hair twisted back and wearing cloth of a deep, rich purple. When he met her eyes, he saw only pain despite her confident stance. "Rachel Berry, daughter of a nobleman." Putting a hand proudly on Kurt's shoulder, he said, "She is here to offer marriage."

" _What_?" Kurt's ears rang with shock, his heart beating quick with adrenaline, and he could only stare at the girl who stood before him, looking at him so passively. "But...I'm only eighteen! I'm not looking for a wife!" He couldn't tell them, it had to stay a secret, but his whole being screamed in protest, thinking of lingering eye contact and gentle touches and sweet whispers in the moonlight.

"Rachel was engaged to Finn before his death," Sheldon added, and Kurt noticed the ring that hung neatly from the silver chain around her neck, her fingers rising to brush it gently. "When you came to train with me I contacted her and her father and we arranged this. The wedding is completely prepared - it will be a small affair, just your families. Your father is completely onboard too, Kurt."

"I need a moment," Kurt said, and walked away. It took a few seconds for him to realise he was walking upwards, the wind forming into stairs, and Santana was just behind him. They walked on the winds to the top of the ravine, and perched side by side on the shelf of rock, looking out at the horizon. "I can't marry that girl."

"I know," Santana said softly, gently lacing her fingers around his. "But you have to. If you don't, Sheldon will only find another woman to set you up with in a few years. This won't go away, Kurt. You're a hero, everyone is watching you - they expect you to take a wife. It could be much worse - maybe Rachel won't want too much from you. Obviously, she was in love with Finn - maybe she hates this too. Maybe she won't stand in the way of you and Blaine."

"Everything's changed so fast," Kurt said quietly, blinking back desperate tears. "I never wanted any of this. Being a hero is great, the training was great and helping these people feels amazing, but it's not the life I planned. I...I was going to take over the business from my father when he retires, stay unmarried, quietly be with Blaine. We had a plan so we could stay together even if we had to keep it a secret. And it's like...in a second, that plan just went up in smoke."

Santana lay her head on his shoulder and sighed heavily. "I don't know what to tell you," she said, her voice a breath on the wind, her words fracturing into the air. "I think you should accept the proposal. If you don't, it raises questions. If you do it now, it'll make everything easier for you. She'll be a good wife, I'm sure."

Gritting his teeth, Kurt stared steadfastly at the horizon. He was only eighteen, and entirely in love with another man - he didn't want a wife. He had never wanted a wife. And yet...things were different now. So much of his life had changed in a matter of weeks, his perception of his own self warped now. He was a different person than he had been before hearing all of these revelations. His father would be so proud to see him with a wife - a beautiful woman of noble birth. Someone to be a friend even if he was never in love with her.

They descended slowly back to solid ground, where Sheldon waited patiently. "Perhaps I shouldn't have sprung this all on you, Kurt," Sheldon said gently. "If you would like a few days to consider the offer, you are more than welcome to them."

"Rachel," Kurt says, trying to project some confidence into his voice, to appear as if he's confident in his choice. "You've lost someone your heart belonged to, and I respect that. This can merely be a marriage of convenience if that's what you want. If you want to be in love, you can have that too. I promise, if you accept my offer, I will do everything I can to make you happy."

Rachel didn't say anything - but she held eye contact for a long moment, the silence stretching thin, and then gently nodded. Sheldon smiled, putting a hand on Kurt and Rachel's shoulders. "We must celebrate. Shall we visit your father, Kurt? Tell him of your heroic endeavours and introduce him to your bride?"

"Of course," Kurt said politely, and offered his arm to Rachel. But, inside, his thoughts circled around his desperate desire to see Blaine, his head spinning with memories. Just after Santana had left, when he'd cried into Blaine's shoulder until he was drained. Blaine had soothed him so sweetly, and helped him wipe away his tears, and Kurt had clung to him so fiercely when he'd said goodbye he thought he might never be able to let go. The first time they'd kissed, clumsy and shy and scared. The first time he'd spent a night with Blaine's arms warm and strong around him.

The winds took him home, to the white house and the fields patchworked all around it. Though Sheldon, Santana and Rachel were with him, his fiancée ready to meet his father, he simply let them find their own way. He ran to Blaine's window, scaling the olive tree and tumbling through the window breathlessly. As he rose to his full height, intimidating with his new physique and sharp features, Blaine sucked in a sharp, shocked breath and stared at him. " _Kurt_ ," he breathed, and reached out to touch him, as if hardly daring to believe this was real. "You look so  _different._ "

"I missed you so much," Kurt said hastily, pulling Blaine close and pressing their mouths together, moulding his hands to Blaine's waist. Breathless kiss after breathless kiss, until they parted flushed and smiling at each other. And for a moment, it seemed like Kurt's life could be what he'd once dreamed of, until reality set back in. "Blaine, there's something we have to talk about. Now."

Blaine brushed his fingers against Kurt's cheek gently, smiling up at him with such trust and affection. "What is it?"

Kurt looked down at him, the man he loved, and he knew he had to handle the situation delicately. The fragile balance of his life would change forever the moment he admitted what was going on. He had to explain everything very carefully, to make Blaine understand why he'd said yes and why he had to do this. "I'm getting married."

"What?!" Blaine was staring up at him with wide eyes, hurt splashed across his face. "What on earth do you mean you're getting married?"

"Sheldon set me up with someone, she's of noble birth and she was engaged to Finn before he died," Kurt explained slowly, feeling like the smallest person in the world with the way Blaine was staring at him. "But nothing has to change, Blaine. There are so many people with much greater influence than me who see men without their wives knowing."

"That's not what I want, Kurt!" Blaine shouted, pushing away from him and turning so Kurt couldn't see the tears in his eyes. "We talked about this, that's not what either of us wanted! You were going to take over the workshop, we would stay together and neither of us would get married and we wouldn't be like all those nobles. I love you!"

"And I love  _you_!" Kurt shouted, grabbing Blaine's hand and pulling him towards him. "Blaine, I love you more than anything. I'm only doing this to stop the whole country from finding out about you, so we can still be us, still be secret!"

"I can't even look at you right now," Blaine said, his voice quiet but deadly, ripping his hands out of Kurt's. "I can't believe you think this is something I ever wanted. Marry her if you want, but don't expect to keep me in your life if you do."

"Blaine!" Kurt's cry, frantic as a mother bird calling for her chicks, had no such effect on Blaine - he simply walked away, leaving Kurt standing alone in his room and trying desperately not to cry.

* * *

On her golden throne - the throne she was unaware Hades had sprawled upon just weeks earlier - Aphrodite watched the argument from far above, smirking gently to herself, glowing with pride. She saw Kurt wiping the fallen tears away and walking back to his family, forcing himself to smile as he put an arm around Rachel's waist and greeted his father with a smile.

"One day the mortals are going to rise up against you for complicating their love lives so," came a familiar gruff voice, and Aphrodite's glow increased as she faced Ares, watching her with dark eyes and a smirk on his familiar lips.

"I only make them complicated if I really like the mortal in question," she said sweetly, crossing the room and putting her arms sinuously around Ares' neck, pressing her slender body against his broad form. "I have such things planned for Kurt. Heroes should have the most complicated lives, after all."

"It's the stuff of dramatic plays that you've crafted here," Ares murmured, looking down at her with those angry, blazing eyes and making her heart beat faster. "And what plans do you have for your own love life?" His touch made her shiver, his hands running gently down her back and her eyes falling briefly closed as she gasped, his mouth so close to hers.

"I won't leave my husband," she said, her voice soft and musical. "But you know I don't love him. Don't you remember who I was with on my wedding night?" He smirked at her - there was no such thing as seeing Ares smile - and kissed her, crushing her against him and making all the breath rush out of her.

As she left him with one last delicate kiss, drifting away to return to meddling in the lives of mortals, causing hearts to break and be mended in the same day, Ares stood alone. When he heard the clang of metal, he turned and found Hephaestus limping into the room, beard tinged with ash and expression curiously cold and passive. "You may have her heart, and be the one she lets press her against these thrones," he said slowly, examining his fingernails - caked in oil, as usual - and flickering his gaze up to Ares, "but they will never allow you to marry her. She is my wife, and she always will be. I don't care about being cuckolded - I have already won what you so desperately desire. And trust me, Ares, she will never be your queen."

The hatred and the loathing and the resentment boiled in Ares like lava, but there was nothing he could do in such a public setting. Not in their sacred throne room, with Hestia crouched by the hearth and listening quietly, forever fanning those flames, aware of everything that happened in the palace she watched over. "I hate you," he spat, and Hephaestus finally smiled, showing his strong teeth. Spitting at his feet, Ares stormed out of the throne room, the very air around him seeming to crackle with his anger. They would see soon. Hephaestus would be at his feet, begging for his life. He would be the lord of all the gods, and Aphrodite would be his beautiful lady, his wife. Their children would be the most beautiful of any, warriors and charmers.

They'd all see.

* * *

The wedding was a quiet affair, just as Sheldon had said. Rachel looked beautiful, wrapped up in pale blue like the sky in the early morning, but her eyes were sad and her neck looked curiously bare without the chain holding the engagement ring Finn had given her. Her father was there, with the head servant of their household, both men watching her promise her life to Kurt with lifted eyebrows and worried furrows in their forehead. Kurt's father was no different - he looked scared, shooting looks at Sheldon every few seconds. The only happy guest was Sheldon, who cried and applauded with enough enthusiasm for the entire room when Kurt and Rachel became officially married. It was only a week after the initial proposal, but with the rise of the Titans looming there was no time to wait around for the right moment.

A small, almost pathetic, party, they went back to the white house next to the farm, where Kurt and Rachel would now be living - in those brief moments when Kurt wasn't travelling the country, defeating monsters that plagued the towns, from tiny remote villages to sprawling cities. He'd met many people and been praised and statues already built in his image, but throughout his travels he could only think of Blaine, and the injustice he had done to their relationship. He should have rejected the proposal, found some other way to take a wife, loved Blaine the way he deserved, instead of throwing it all away out of fear.

"Kurt, you have a visitor," Santana called from the door, and gave Kurt a subtle wink as she returned to drink wine with the rest of the people in the house. The mere sight of Blaine sent agony like a spear through Kurt's chest, a dull ache, and he took Blaine's hand in his to pull him into the dark workshop, where they could only find each other by that overwhelming awareness of each other's bodies.

"I'm sorry to come here and interrupt," Blaine said quietly, in the dark, and Kurt's breath stuttered in his throat as Blaine's hands slid slowly up his arms, coming to rest gripping his shoulders and bringing them closer together. "I heard you were getting married today, and I didn't want to interfere. But I can't help it, Kurt, I love you. I've loved you since before I knew what love was, and I don't know how to stop wanting you. You're a hero now, the world worships you, and I am so jealous of every single one of them for getting to be near you. Thinking about her makes my chest hurt, I'm so angry and miserable that I cannot be the one you wake up next to every morning."

"I wish it was you," Kurt replied, so soft, like a gentle breath of wind, and pressed their foreheads together, finding Blaine's eyes bright in the dark and trying to put across his sincerity, his love, his hatred for the situation they had found themselves in. "I love you so much, Blaine, and if we lived in another time - another place - I would marry you in a heartbeat. I want to keep seeing you, but I understand if your morals won't let you see me now I'm married."

"My morals are completely separate whenever it comes to you," Blaine said, and Kurt huffed out a breath of a laugh. "Whatever happens, Kurt, I am desperately in love with you. Your new wife doesn't change what we have - we have years of us, of being in love, of knowing each other. We have a love I know was meant to be, and I can't throw that all away because of what is essentially a political match between you and her. You don't love her, and she's still in love with Finn. Maybe she'll get over that, but by then you'll have carefully told her our situation and she'll understand. We can have this love for the rest of our lives. One day, you won't be a hero anymore, and you can leave her. Things will be easy."

Alas, for a hero, life can never be easy. Kurt kissed Blaine with all the pent-up passion of a man who had found himself marrying someone he could not be physically attracted to, and had known for too short a time to feel any semblance of an emotional connection to. He kissed like a man possessed, like a man drowning and desperate for a breath of oxygen, hot tears streaking his skin, and Blaine familiar and warm in his arms, kissing him back with just as much desperation. And then a gasp - a broken, tear-streaked gasp - and the light flickered on, and Kurt pulled himself from Blaine to find Rachel standing in the doorway, staring at them in horror. "You...you... _you_..."

"Rachel, I can explain," Kurt said, trying to calm her with a soothing tone, though he knew there was now nothing he could do to change anything. "Blaine and I have had feelings for each other for years. We're in love, and I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. My intention was to tell you further down the line, when we've grown to love and trust each other. Our connection will never be strong, but I know you're still in love with Finn. No one gets over losing their love in a few months."

"You're right, and I thought I had someone to fall back on," Rachel spat angrily, her eyes gleaming with angry tears that matched the gleam of her silver wedding ring. "When Sheldon contacted my father to arrange this marriage, I hoped that I would find a fresh start here. Now I see that all I'll find here will be further heartbreak." A single tear fell, sliding down her cheek and leaving a fresh silver trail behind, and her voice quivered with emotion as she snapped, "I want you out. Out,  _now_! And I don't want to see you again tonight."

Ejected from his own home, Kurt could only stand outside the house, looking at the candlelight flickering in the win's company, and jumped when Blaine's hand crept into his. Regret, cold and cloying, crept into his stomach, and he gently extracted his fingers, giving Blaine a look that he knew from all their years together. "I need to think," he said gently, and Blaine nodded. "I love you, okay? Don't forget that."

"Never," Blaine said softly, and kissed Kurt softly, one last time, before he smiled and turned away. Kurt watched him walking into the darkness until he disappeared, appearing again as a mere silhouette in the window of the farmhouse next door. Pressing a hand to his temple, feeling a headache building with all the tension and the worrying, he began to run, feeling the power of the gods surging in his limbs. The cliff seemed to appear from nowhere, a place to think and consider and mull everything over, to be alone and to look into his heart and know what he truly desired. Did he want Blaine, that handsome man he loves so much, and would give anything to be with, back in his old life. Back when it was easy, when he knew his role and his place and where he stood in the community. Before he was a son of Zeus, a demigod, a child of a dangerous, terrifying prophecy that no one wanted. Before he became a hero, a public figure, having to show that mask to the world and never able to be himself - a man with a wife. Did he want that? Should he retreat into that? No - it was merely a farce, a wild lie that would grow and weave out of control, a terrifying prospect that would end in him becoming someone he isn't, in any way.

Collapsing to his knees at the edge of the cliff, the cold wind whistling up from Poseidon's domain, his heart heavy and tears welling hot in his eyes, Kurt stared into the darkness of the night and felt the hopelessness invade his blood, making him cold and everything seemed shadowed with misery, his body like lead and the thought of the future terrifying. "Please," he pleaded softly, sending his prayer out into the world, hoping someone would hear him, "please help me. I don't know what to do. I'm lost." The tears fell, splashing onto the grass smearing its stain across his pale clothes, and his voice caught on his sob as he murmured, "I wish my mother was here."

As he opened his eyes, he screamed to see the very earth beneath him opening its jaws like a monster lurked just below the surface, a gaping abyss that swallowed him down, sucking him in with a pull of wind and sending him hurtling down a dark tunnel. He was going to die, he knew it, with Rachel angry and Blaine upset and no one to take over from him. No one to take care of his father, or Santana, if he were to die. Only eighteen - at least he could join the ranks of all those heroes who had died so young.

He emerged, stumbling on unsteady legs, into a light infused with red. Looking around, he saw black fences rising from rocky ground, and his jaw dropped - the Underworld. He had prayed to the gods for help - a last, desperate resort, one he would never have taken had it not been for how dire his situation had suddenly become - and fallen into the Underworld. Whatever the world was trying to do to him, it had a sick sense of humour.

But perhaps there was beauty down here. A pomegranate tree rose from the earth, its fruit gleaming richly as jewels, their sweet scent strong on the air. Kurt took a step closer, one hand rising to pluck a fruit, when a silken voice behind him stopped him in his tracks. "Don't you know the tales of the food from the Underworld, Kurt? If you taste but a single seed of that fruit, you'll be trapped here forever. Though that would free you from those pressures you're so worried about, you would have to leave all those you love behind in the world of the living."

Turning slowly, Kurt came face to face with the Lord of the Underworld himself - Hades. His robes were black, rumoured to be woven from the souls of the damned, and moved around him like a mist. His helm was in place above his brow, gleaming in the red light of the torches, and when he smiled it sent a shiver down Kurt's spine. "Come with me, young hero."

"Why should I?" Kurt spat, and Hades only smiled at him, taking Kurt's shoulder in his hand and steering him through narrow pathways and tall, foreboding gates.

"Dear boy, you prayed for help," he said gently, as they approached the black palace Kurt had only heard about in stories - a terrifying place as it rose against the rocks, gleaming with precious metals and guarded by dead soldiers. "You wanted your mother. Everyone knows how that feels, so I answered your distress call."

"My mother?" Kurt turned every way he could, but there were no spirits in the room. "Is this a trick to draw me here and kill me? I don't trust the gods, Lord Hades."

"You hate my brother, just like many of us," Hades said. "He is arrogant, vain, and believes he can take what he wants without any consequence. Because of him, your father lost his wife, and you were denied a mother. He is too powerful - but war is coming, and we must all work together in order to defeat the threat. And wouldn't you like to meet your mother, Kurt?"

A woman walked slowly into the room, her robes swirling around her, and Hades held a hand out to her. "My love, I told you he would come," he said softly, and Kurt knew that this was his wife, Persephone. She was as beautiful as the stories had always said, her eyes full of sadness as they flickered over his. "Eighteen years ago, Kurt, my wife met a man while she was spending her time above the earth with her mother. She told me he was a god among men, and she wished to spend some time with him. We are gods - there is little concept of time in our world. She married him very quickly, and they tried to have a child. She gave up most of her magic, with only enough left that she would be able to return to me when things were over with him, to regain her strength."

"And then Zeus destroyed me," Persephone said, her voice hard as steel and filled with bitter poison, her eyes flashing gold with anger. "I was still a goddess, but living in a mortal life, in a disguise, and he didn't recognise me on first sight. He wanted to seduce me, but I was faithful to my husband. So he forced me. Horrifically, I became pregnant - I was devastated. I had wanted my husband's children, and I was pregnant with a child of Zeus. My strength faded the further my pregnancy progressed - I just couldn't believe that even a god could treat anyone so terribly. So the birth of my son killed me - my essence was so weak, I simply faded into the Underworld. It took months for my strength to return to what it had been, for me to feel like a goddess again. I only saw my son long enough to name him, but I knew he would be powerful. A son of two gods, the child a prophecy had spoken of just months before, raised by a good man, the one mortal I would've sacrificed my immortality for. I saw my eyes in his face, and I named him" She smiled softly, and ran delicate fingers through Kurt's hair. "My beautiful boy, you've grown so well. I dreamed of this day."

"Mother?" Kurt breathed, in shock, and Persephone nodded, tears in her eyes. "My father is Zeus, and my mother...my mother is  _Persephone_! But you're his daughter!"

"And technically, Zeus and Hera are siblings," Hades said, and Kurt's mouth twisted at the thought of that. "Gods don't have DNA - not really. Our blood is gold, not like that of mortals or demigods, so there are no blood ties within our family. My wife is technically my niece - that doesn't stop anyone in our world."

"Then how can you stand there and tell me to support the war effort, when Zeus' actions almost killed your wife?!" Kurt shouted, and Hades took a slight step back, a little shocked. "Your family fights and hurts each other, and yet you think you can tell me that I should support the man who is the reason my mother died and left my father broken?!"

"If the gods lose this war, Kurt, the entire world is going to change - almost certainly be destroyed," Hades said sternly, and Kurt almost felt his footing slip. Hades' anger wasn't obvious, like that of most of the gods - it was subtle, making the ground feel unsteady and the air feel cold. "And you're right, I'm not one to preach about togetherness. One of the gods is the one orchestrating the release of the Titans - I can feel the anger in the air, and it was a line in the prophecy:  _Titans unleashed through immortal rage_. Someone with a bone to pick is going to unlock the gates to Tartarus, and we need you to help us defeat them. We...we just aren't capable of doing it alone." With a deep breath, Hades added, "And, in the space of many, many meetings, we have all come to an agreement - if you can help us defeat the Titans, we will offer you immortality. Life among the gods."

The offer alone is surprising - immortality is a rare gift. It was last given to Dionysus, many years ago according to the stories - Kurt would be the newest addition to the palace atop Mount Olympus. He would be new. It's crazy,  _everything_  is crazy - his father is Zeus, his mother is Persephone, his brand new wife caught him with the man he's been in love with for years - but, perhaps, this could be a life he might want.

"I'll do it."

* * *

In another place in the Underworld, a figure shrouded in black approached the entrance to Tartarus. It breathed like a living thing, inhaling so deeply that everything around the black hole flickered, unsure whether to succumb to the pull. A strong hand emerged from a cloak and reached over the entrance, and a brilliant flash of light lit up the cavern. A wailing sound erupted in the silence, an alarm, and the figure in black moved quickly, away before anyone could see them.

Two soldiers wandered into the cavern, swords poised for battle. "False alarm," one breathed in relief, looking around the empty cavern. A single word, and the wailing stopped, and the two turned just a second too early to notice the hand that emerged from the pit, and squashed both of them flat.

On Olympus, the palace shook, and the gods looked at each other in horror. Hera moved closer to Zeus, Aphrodite to Hephaestus, fearing for their lives. "The Titans," Zeus said, voice low and, though he would never admit it, scared. "They're free."

* * *

We won't go into the details of how Kurt explained the situation to Rachel. Of course, he did, when he returned from the Underworld, and over the course of several weeks, and his back and forth trips around the country to kill monsters, she slowly forgave him. Blaine could remain in his life, in the same capacity - her love for Finn, after all, was still strong in her heart. And, as she confessed to Kurt in the dead of night, her father was like him - in love with their highest ranking servant - and she had never met her mother. According to them, she had simply appeared to them - like magic.

We shall pick up on the day Kurt returned to Thebes, with an entire group along with him - Sheldon, Santana, Blaine and Rachel. Kurt and Santana would be attending a meeting with a small group of gods - Zeus, Athena, Poseidon, Ares - to discuss strategy for the upcoming battles, and Sheldon would be accompanying Rachel and Blaine on a tour of the city, speaking with those who wished to meet the great Hercules and reviewing the statues now dotted around the city.

The temple awaited them, and Santana summoned a wind to lift them towards it, get them there faster. "Does it seem a little quiet here to you?" she asked as they landed lightly - the product of all their dual training - and Kurt couldn't help but roll his eyes a little. "There is a war going on, Kurt."

"And you're paranoid." Pushing open the doors to the temple, Kurt looked around the room, and found no one but themselves. "Hello? My lords and lady? It's us! For our meeting!"

"Kurt! And Santana! How lovely to see you both!" The voice seemed disembodied, and Kurt edged closer to Santana, nerves rising in his throat and making him feel nauseous. "But really, Kurt, I would much rather speak with you alone." Santana screamed as magic threw her backwards, the door crashing open and slamming closed, the sound of the bolts closing like a crack of thunder. Terrified now, Kurt turned all around until he finally caught sight of Ares, lurking in the shadows, armour gleaming.

"Lord Ares," he said, bowing his head respectfully. "We really ought to wait for the other gods to arrive before we start our discussions."

"You stupid, naive child!" Every word was spat, each making Kurt start with its venom, as Ares stepped closed to him, eyes blazing with fury and sword swinging threateningly at his side. "They're not coming! This is a private meeting. Invited guests only." He snapped his fingers, and Kurt's sword dropped from his hand in shock when Rachel and Blaine appeared in the room, both bound in silver chains. Rachel's shoulder was bleeding from a shallow wound, and an ugly purple bruise bloomed across Blaine's jaw, cheek and eye.

"Why are you doing this?!" Kurt screamed, running towards the two of them. But they vanished before he could reach them, only to reappear in another part of the room. "What do you want?"

"I want you to give up the powers you've drawn from Zeus," Ares said, cocking one eyebrow cruelly and smirking as Kurt stared at Rachel and Blaine, both staring at him desperately. "Not forever - just for, let's say, twenty-four hours. I'll even make a promise - if either of your little loves here are hurt, then the deal will be broken. Your powers will return to you."

Finally tearing his eyes away from the desperation and fear in Blaine's gaze, Kurt found the inner strength to ask, "People are going to get hurt, aren't they?"

"Well, of course, people get hurt every day," Ares said with a derisive laugh, and Kurt winced at the voice. Anger, centuries old, made everything feel tinged with red, evoked images of the clash of steel and the shouts of war. "So, do we have a deal? Because, if not, I'll have no choice but to keep these little loves of yours imprisoned."

"Fine, fine, we have a deal!" Kurt shouted, and Ares grinned at him, baring his teeth, and seized his hand to shake it. Kurt could feel his power leave him, drawn out of him by the sheer power of the gods, and collapsed to his knees when it was done.

"You poor child," Ares tutted, and vanished. Four hands were on Kurt's back, helping him to sit up, and he didn't know whether Rachel or Blaine hugged him first.

"You'll be killed, Kurt!" Rachel exclaimed, her voice high with fright, anxiously twisting a lock of hair around her finger. "The Titans are out there, it was obviously him, and he wants you to die. He wants you out of the way because you're the only thing standing in his way!"

"I'll be fine," Kurt said, though he didn't believe it himself, and his words sounded hollow to his own ears. Truth be told, he knew as soon as Santana was forcibly ejected from the room that he was going to die. After all, there was that line in the prophecy:  _Olympus to preserve with toll of knell._  Someone had to die for Olympus to be saved - why shouldn't it be him?

Rachel was indeed correct - the Titans were out there. Hiding, mostly. Preparing for their greatest attack, the attack that would destroy the gods once and for all. But the moment Ares gave them word that the child of the prophecy was severely weakened, and likely to die, they all set out for Thebes. Nothing the gods did could stop them. Below the earth, Hades cradled his sobbing wife, closing his eyes against the inevitability that Kurt was going to die, and there was nothing anyone could do to help him.

But, even without his powers, Kurt was clever. He had the hands of a chariot builder, creative, and soon had created a contraption that tangled ropes around the legs of those Titans stupid enough not to notice that he had created a boundary. They fell into the abyss that opened, with a little help from Hades below. They would all go straight back to Tartarus and stay there for eternity, without opening the void again.

Weakened by the effort, exhausted without his powers, Kurt collapsed in a huddled ball close to the temple. Unfortunately for him, it was a temple dedicated to Ares. Seeing his cunning plan collapsing with a little of Kurt's ingenuity, the god was angry, and the corner of the temple collapsed, sending a column toppling towards Kurt, destined to crush him. But Blaine screamed at the sight, and rushed to push Kurt out of the way. People say that Kurt's scream shattered glass when he saw Blaine crushed beneath the pillar.

At the sound, Sheldon and Santana appeared at his side, as he gripped the column and tried to lift it, praying to every god imaginable that it could be okay in any way. The power coming back to him was like an electric shock - the pillar sailed far away, and Kurt stared at his hands, wide-eyed. "What happened?" he asked, turning to his companions.

"A-Ares' deal is broken," Blaine breathed, his voice faint, wincing with every word. "He promised neither Rachel nor I would get hurt." Collapsing to his knees beside the man he loved with every fibre of his being, Kurt didn't try to hide his tears, squeezing Blaine's hands in his and kissing his forehead, his cheeks, his fluttering eyelids and his lips.

"I love you so much,," he whispered, tears falling faster than he could blink them away, voice constricted with it. "Blaine, I-"

"Go, you have to," Blaine insisted, sounding forceful even though he was fading. "The Titans are going to Olympus - you have to help the gods stop Ares."

"I'll watch over him, punkin," Sheldon said, and sat down next to Blaine, laying a damp cloth across his forehead and manoeuvring him onto a flat rock to prop him up. "You go save the world."

"Let's go, Santana!" Kurt shouted, and she flew into action, summoning winds with a flick of her fingers. Wiping his eyes, letting his anger swell up within him, Kurt climbed onto the sheet of solid air, and jumped when he felt hands on his waist. "Rachel, no!" he protested, ignoring her flashing eyes. "Stay with Sheldon. I want you safe."

"I'm your wife," Rachel said sternly. "You can't stop me from coming with you. I want to see you bring Ares to justice." Shaking his head fondly, Kurt pulled her arms tighter around him and they were away, flying quick as the wind to the peak of Mount Olympus and the battle raging there.

The battle was epic, and dramatic, and filled with the sound of clashing swords and a lot of smoke and strategy and eventual abandonment of strategy in favour of simply annihilating the enemy. But, as you might be able to tell from the rest of our tale, we aren't particularly interested in the battles. Kurt's personal growth and love life make for a much more compelling tale. But, rest assured, he helped the gods immensely and, without him, they would have lost the battle.

We will pick up at the moment when Ares, angry at his loss and being chased for imprisonment and exile by the other gods, ran Rachel through with his sword.  _Olympus preserved with toll of knell._  She collapsed, and Kurt ran to her side, cradling her into his arms and running to Santana, screaming at her to start the winds. They moved quickly, with Kurt urging her on to go ever faster, but it made no difference - Rachel was dead by the time they reached the ground outside the temple.

Laying her gently on the ground, Kurt turned to Sheldon, hoping for a smile and a reassurance that Blaine was going to be alright. But, instead, he found a grim expression and a shake of the head, and collapsed on the rock, sobbing desperately. Santana cried too, standing and letting the tears stream down her cheeks, staring down at the two bodies lying on the rocks, so peaceful that they could be simply sleeping. "I'm so sorry, Kurt," Sheldon said gently, laying a strong hand on his shoulder. "But there are some things you just can't change."

And so Kurt descended into the Underworld, inspired by the tale of Odysseus he remembered from training, searching for Hades and his mother. He found them in their palace, and knelt respectfully at Hades' feet. "My lord, I have but one favour to ask of you," he said, trying not to sound desperate. "My wife and my love are dead, both at the hands of Ares. Is there any way I could find their souls from the rivers and take them back to the world with me?"

"No one can save two souls, Kurt," Hades said solemnly, his face set in stone. Blood from the war stained his robes, and Persephone tended to him anxiously, her face full of love and concern. "You must choose only one. Your wife, or your lover?"

Many heroes face difficult decisions, but few are so difficult as standing at the edge of a river, seng two spirits you wish to save, and only being able to save one. Kurt cried, he screamed, he pleaded, but there was nothing he could do to change it - these were the laws of the Underworld, governed differently from the world above. So, he took a chance, and waded into the waters, and pulled Rachel's spirit from there. After all, she was his wife - he wasn't in love with her, never would be, but he owed it to her. On his honour, she deserved to be saved - to see her family, to remember Finn, to perhaps have a family with him one day. With one last look at Blaine's spirit drifting down the river, heart cracking apart into ash, he rose back to the world, and laid Rachel's spirit into her body.

She awoke with a gasp, and looked up at Kurt as the wound in her stomach healed. "You saved me," she said, and threw her arms around him, kissing his cheek. And then she looked to Blaine, and her face fell. "Oh."

"I was given a choice," Kurt said softly, dipping his head. "A person can only save one soul."

"And a goddess may save another," came a voice, and Kurt turned to see Persephone standing behind them, carefully guiding Blaine's spirit back into his body. "I want you happy, my son. And don't worry, this was with my husband's permission. Live your life, and tell me when you give me grandchildren."

Watching his mother disappear, Kurt turned to Blaine, coughing as he slowly sat up, and couldn't help but smile around at the small knot of people that surrounded him. "I love you all so much," he said, and they all smiled back.

And when Kurt kissed Blaine, the world was set to rights again. The war was won. Ares was exiled. At last, after the months of turmoil, his life was what he wanted it to be. All was well.


End file.
